“No one would have believed, in the last years of the nineteenth century, that human affairs were being watched from the timeless worlds of space.
“No one could have dreamed we were being scrutinised, as someone with a microscope studies creatures that swarm and multiply in a drop of water. Few men even considered the possibility of life on other planets and yet, across the gulf of space, minds immeasurably superior to ours regarded this Earth with envious eyes, and slowly and surely, they drew their plans against us.“
When HG Wells penned his novel, The War of the Worlds, he envisaged a threat from without; a Martian invasion bringing mankind low, routing civilisation by use of advanced technology. Ultimately, mankind’s fate rested on an invisible ally, earthly pathogens doing what humanity could not and laying waste to all those Martian plans. HG Wells may well not have envisaged that renowned thespian, rugby fan and bon viveur, Richard Burton, would narrate Wells’ words to Jeff Wayne’s epic music less than a century later, but the suspicion is that he could not have predicted that those same earth-liberating pathogens, filtered through the lens of the humble pangolin and crepuscular bat, would turn their powers against us.
And yet, your humble reporter found himself setting forth to Heidelberg, the foreboding cloud of Covid-19 only beginning to make its presence felt, hindsight allowing that valour was most definitely the better part of discretion on this occasion. We came together, a pack of eight, and though we may not have looked quite the beefy, gnarled and grizzly part that number usually represents – can one grizzle in a scarf? – but over the course of two nights we put in a shift of ale-drinking an international pack would be proud of.
To Vetter’s, and our pack was drawn together in a local brewery serving dunkelbiers and plates of meat and sautéed potatoes stacked perilously high. Serious discussion took place as to what a group of rugby-loving bloggites would do now that two of the three final-day 6 Nations matches were postponed; the news that two postponements were now three only served to harden our resolve: we, the good people of AOD, would have a good time. And that is exactly what your intrepid reporter did – a foray to the Drugstore, a speakeasy where the schnapps was fast and the talk was faster; bonded by our common purpose and strengthened in the face of adversity. This reporter staggered back to his humble abode at a relatively sane hour, leaving an unnamed few to head off to a subterranean nightclub aptly called The Cave, and, much like Joe Marler, they were went on down to see what mischief they could cause, and, again like Marler, they could happily take a ban – it would have little consequence in this day and age.
The dawn of a second day, then, and a stroll along Heidelberg’s Hauptstraße served to emphasise the impact Coronavirus was having – not a single soul was seen for some hours. But as the day drew on and venues opened, this reporter was joined by Meades, emerging from the morning’s Stygian gloom like Roland Bertranne, cutting a dash in Yorkshire brogues and dazzling white trews that even the ranks of Tuscany could scarce forbear to cheer. The obligatory cultural touristic opportunities were availed upon; a trip to a wonderful bookstore where this reporter picked up a small piece by Wells contemporary Mark Twain, on his trip through Heidelberg by means of raft; a handy comparator for our own weekend, perhaps. Joined subsequently by Boanova (worryingly sporting a Leinster jersey) and SoYouThinkYou’reaWaffleman (equally worryingly, wearing a Munster top), gelatos were consumed, coffees were discussed and downed, and impressively steep hikes were had.
Sufficiently exercised, and in need of strong libation, we repaired to the venue-that-was-to-be-the-venue, The Dubliner. Joining Thaum and Mr Thaum, talk turned to our common love of rugby, and arms were chanced by suggesting to staff that they avail of YouTube’s wealthy repository of rugby matches for us all to enjoy, given the absence of any matches. Sadly, even Iks’ eloquent pleas fell on deaf ears, and instead we set about reviewing the season that never ended, remarking on standout players (Stuart McCloskey appears to have Thaum on a retainer for PR work*), and into the gap where our attention would have usually fallen, stories were exchanged, witticisms were slung and the occasional train refund form was completed. But that is another story for another time.
As Thaum has already elaborated, we moved on the Bar Centrale and thence to its restaurant neighbour Dorfschaenke, for pleasingly filling food and even more pleasingly outsized wine bottles. As the night began to wind down, several of our pack went separate ways; Thaum and Mr Thaum returned to the Bar Centrale to investigate the gin options, MrsIks went home to rest her weary hosting head, Boa had hit his limits and made good his escape. A round of beer and schnapps, and we remaining few parted ways, handshakes, hugs and backslaps abound.
And, in it all, Wells prose kept returning to my mind; MisterIks as the astronomer Ogilvy, assuring us that the chances of anyone getting a fine, were a million to one; only to then explain that for feeding ducks, he was served a 55 euro penalty notice (he still has no regrets and post-lockdown will continue his campaign in the face of teutonic adversity); SoYouThinkYou’reaWaffleman as Wells’ artilleryman, slowly losing his sanity as his left-handed passing fell to pieces and suggesting that a return to that subterranean life in The Cave may be the best solution for humanity; and the sight of Boa stood atop the Thingstätte, an arena built in Nazi-era Germany, dressed all in black whilst wearing a Leinster jersey, is one which will live long in the memory, if only for the nexus of humorous corollaries it brings together. And through it all, through the fantastic hosts, the pints, the ball-throwing and the brilliant company, there was the sense that from the madness, something beautiful had grown, or rather, something we had all known had been reinforced; that our blog-meets are something to be cherished. Not so much a case of à la recherche du temps perdu, more a case of à la prochaîne.
But the boss don’t like these dizzy heights
We’re busted in the blinding lights
Of closing time
As experienced by DropTheClaw.
Ovally Balls 
Chimpie – that lot are certifiably insane and/or completely cynically venal, but:
if you actually believe in a god, then you believe that it is omnipotent and omniscient, and therefore will protect the faithful. It’s quite a logical position. (Once you’ve abandoned all other forms of logic to believe in the first place, obviously.)
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I’d go further and say that any religious leader who *is* observing the lock-down measures is de facto admitting that their god either doesn’t exist, or is powerless.
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Well, quite. If you’re all in on the literalness (of selected bits etc) it’s perfectly logical.
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Even ISIS warned its militants about the dangers of travelling to Europe because of Coronavirus last month. They’ve since revised that advice I think.
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I think those whose faith has made them immune should go forth and beget themselves, or serve the less fortunate by using their superpower to help clean hospitals.
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Labour, that dangerous political party/cult, has elected raging left-winger Keir Starmer with 56% on the first ballot. Now they can hold the government to account, says Polly Toynbee.
I really hope Starmer doesn’t join a “National Government”.
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Toulon v Embra at Stade Mayol 2019, starting in a minute or so https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r-VxuOm4s9E
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Tam, the Telegraph last week was saying we don’t need a national government, but all politicians just need to pull together – ie fall into line and not hold the government to account,
The shitehawks
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Rain stopped. Making a fire. Just because.
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Thauma, I’m sure Mrs Deebee will know if we can get that or not. I beat the pug. I’m the man.
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I thought that pestilence etc was part of God’s will? Pretty sure God determines everything – good or bad – so praying isn’t in and of itself a defence. If your family/community/society is ‘flawed’ you’re in shit. Need to do herd suckupability to get the big man on your side.
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I didn’t beat the pug physically – he’s way too cute for that – just out territoried him.
***zips up and swaggers away***
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If Deebee has found a way to beat this terrible pug then perhaps we can all be saved.
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I’d forgotten that the Toulon game was when Big Bill did THAT offload for Johnstone’s try.
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Have you all heard the one about how the 5G network is spreading the virus?
How stupid *are* people?
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I think the 5G network is more likely to be spreading stupidity than a virus.
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BB, I thought the Jamie Ritchie pass to Wee Darcy for his try was very nearly as good as Big Bill’s
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Just watched this, rugby related, bit of Aussie colour.
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Going to watch this later, will report back.
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***zips up and swaggers away***
Oh dear me.
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Been playing cricket in the garden. Slight sun burn.
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@OT – Hope you’re stopping for a few pints after. With it being a home game it’s not as if you’re going to be late back.
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Geech his picked his ‘imaginary’ Lions team.
https://www.bbc.co.uk/sport/rugby-union/52158743
I made the mistake at looking at the comments. Must remind myself NEVER to look at the comments onna BBC article.
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It wasn’t called ‘speak your branes’ for nowt.
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It’s not a bad side, to be honest. Furlong is my one concern in that side, not because he isn’t the best available, he is, but because he hasn’t been at his stellar best for a wee while now. He’s still a young man, not 28 till the end of the year so he has plenty of time to get back to being the best tighthead in the world.
When on form he is a game changer, there aren’t a lot of tightheads who can do that
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Pob has gone mental. No Tomas Francis? Pffty pfft.
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That many Scots I a gats team? Pffft.
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‘Must remind myself NEVER to look at the comments onna BBC article.’
It’s up there as a rule alongside never get involved in a land war in Asia
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‘Snot a Gats team, its a Geech team.
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Used to do OK following one or two of the people who commented BTL on BBC horse racing. Some of the conversation was good too. Thinking about it that was on the thing where there wasn’t an article as such – just posts by BTL people with comment below them.
The rugby equivalent was pretty crap though, but I still occasionally smile to myself about the post titled “Andy Powell: All Fart and No Poo. Discuss.”
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@BB – Geech says there shouldn’t have been any more Scots in the Gats teams though. And reminds people that he did the same himself in 2009.
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I always try to read across the newspapers, just to get an idea of what is out there.
I have been doing this for a long time, since before the paywalls went up, so I like to think I have a thick skin for some of the shite you read out there. However, I was tempted to pick up my crummy old laptop and throw it against the wall when I read a letter to the editor in the Shiteygraph this evening that put forward that the NHS should not be untouchable after all this.
The gobshite’s point was that since the supermarkets have all stepped up and kept the nation fed, it proves the private sector is best and the lack of PPE in the NHS shows that the public sector is shite.
I was suddenly 17 again and I REALLY wanted to meet the author of that face to face.
The fucking stupid ring piece.
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CMW, as to Scots in Gats’ Lions teams, Geech is on a code with Gats, he is old school and won’t criticise him.
Having said that, there isn’t a huge case for many Scottish players in the Gats era. Hoggy got injured, Finn wasn’t the best option at the time.
Ryan Grant and Richie Gray got treated badly in Australia, Grant especially.
John Barclay should have been a Lion, I’m not going to argue for many more, our results didn’t merit great inclusion.
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I can’t imagine that there are any private companies involved in logistics for the NHS. No, I’m sure there won’t be any. Definitely none that also have any interests in the railway industry. And none that would make fine upstanding AOD/OBers redundant. Certainly not.
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Good point CMW, I was approaching it from a different perspective, the fact that all the resources in the NHS are consumed at the point of care- every penny goes in to that hospital bed that we might find ourselves in, that is where the money ends, there is no reimbursement.
But yes, you are absolutely right that the market forces that have been brought in mean that many of our services are being “provided” at the lowest possible cost, and very often at the non-accounted cost of quality
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@Ticht – I think a few more could have gone last time though I don’t think any selection taken in isolation was particularly scandalous. What Geech says about 2009 is true though – he only picked two and then a couple of replacements though of course Scotland were weaker then (and in 2013) than in 2017.
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I don’t imagine the logistics game for healthcare equipment to be an easy one at all at the moment (and wouldn’t be whoever was doing it) so to be fair the time for casting any aspersions will really be when it’s all looked back on once the immediate crisis is over. There will always be a point at which private industry is involved for any of our services, it’s just a matter of where that line is put that is up for debate.
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CMW, I read something the other day that raised a wry smile, after all the brouhaha over the write-off of the fourteen billion pound debt the NHS was running, someone wrote, hang on, that is fourteen billion pounds of under funding up to this point, it’s not debt.
We need to deal with this emergency and then have a really long period of introspection of where we want to go, we can’t go back to where we were two months ago, that is disastrous – I mean, how much more proof do we need?
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@Ticht – I have no faith that anything significant will change. Too many of the public don’t seem willing or able to consider that some things could be (and in the past have been) done differently. I’m happy with the Labour result today, it’s what I voted for as it seemed like the best combination to stop infighting in the party, but we look a very long way from power.
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Who knows where we’ll all be in 6 months/a year from now, but I think Starmer was probably the right choice from those three.
I’ll leave the diversity issue for another time, but it is a problem.
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If you’re feeling a bit down right now just think about how chirpier you’ll feel after the Queen speaks to us all later.
All you living in republics must be green with envy about how perked up we will be. Or something else.
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Learn more about the market for bog roll than you ever thought you needed to know:
https://marker.medium.com/what-everyones-getting-wrong-about-the-toilet-paper-shortage-c812e1358fe0
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Christmas seems to come round earlier each year.
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I’m no petrol head, but this may be useful:
https://www.topgear.com/car-news/top-gear-advice/how-look-after-your-car-when-youre-not-using-it#1
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Geech’s wise move = Tuilagi + Slade
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We took the car to the far north of Prague today for our long walk. A place we knew little of that was the site of a Celtic settlement way back when. The walk was ok – we saw deer and hares. And then we came to this “experience restaurant”:
farmasneku.cz/en/#rest
The website has the Czech priorities in the right order:
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If anybody needs a wee rugby boost, there’s one here:
(Unless you’re a Bath fan).
May not be available to the Phantom Duck Feeder Of Old Heidelberg, though.
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Maybe everybody’s outside enjoying this brief spell of good weather (at an appropriate social distance, of course)?
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Well, the mister’s been doing the raspberry and veg patches, and I’ve been doing … not a lot, until starting the dinner.
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